


Kiss the Cook

by TriniTea



Series: The Pieces of Our Story [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baking, Cooking, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Cravings, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 19:56:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11607843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriniTea/pseuds/TriniTea
Summary: Skye's pregnancy cravings gets Ward to dust off the old apron.





	Kiss the Cook

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after my friend asked for a cooking fic and after two other concepts before this and several months of work, I finally got this one done for him! Yay!
> 
> Enjoy!

 

Ward blinks awake at the sound of shuffling outside of the bedroom walls. He stops for a moment to stare up at the ceiling and listen to the mumbling which emanates from the kitchen or living room.

The first thing that comes to his mind is that there is an intruder in the apartment. But when he rolls over to alert Skye, his eyes instead meet with an empty space and ruffled up sheets. It's probably just Skye doing another midnight raid of the fridge. It isn't the first time she's done it, especially lately.

To be on the safe side (the side that he'd always prefers to be on), Ward moves the covers off of his body and softly steps onto the hardwood floors.

Not bothering to put on a t-shirt or sweatpants, he makes his way around the bed and to the door, which is already open by just a smidgen. He takes a silent breath before opening the door just wide enough to slip through.

Once he's fully into the hallway, he can see a dim glow pouring from the kitchen and into the living room. As he approaches, he can see that it illuminates from open fridge, with Skye bent over muttering to herself as she digs through the assortment of food.

Silent as a fox, Ward walks over to an unknowing Skye. When he is almost directly behind her he watches her for a moment, still oblivious to what's behind her.

Ward tilts his head to the side, staring at his wife who her head all the way inside the refrigerator. "Skye, what are you doing?"

She screeches, hitting her head against the frame of the fridge. She backs away and looks towards Ward. "What the hell Grant? You scared the shit out of me!"

Ward crosses his arms, "Well, I was wondering what you were doing at one a.m. raiding the fridge."

"I'm having pregnancy craving and I was looking of for watermelon and  _someone_  ate all the damn watermelon!" Skye hisses.

He should have remembered that she's been craving watermelon lately, oops.

Ward presses his lips together and mutters, "Yeah sorry. I can go out to the store and get some if you want."

"Don't bother, it's alright," Skye mumbles as she shuts the fridge door. It's subtle, but he sees a slight pout on her lips still.

Ward places his hands on her hips, feeling the slight curve of her baby bump. "Then is there anything I can get for you? Draw you a hot bubble bath or get you something sweet?"

Ward watches as she pauses to consider her options. He'll practically do anything to make her and their baby happy; if she wants him to make a nest of pillows, Ward would do it in a heartbeat, if she wanted a foot massage, consider it done, if she wants to stuff her face with chocolate he won't judge! He'll just remind her to brush her teeth afterwards.

"Can you make your Gramsy's brownies with the strawberry sauce, please?" Skye asks sweetly.

"Okay, but it's going to take a while, but it's doable. Is there anything else you want?"

Suddenly, the corners of Skye's lips curl upwards like the Cheshire Cat. "I want you to wear the apron."

Oh yes, their extensive collection of aprons is something to marvel at.

Early into their relationship when Skye found out that he liked to cook, she bought him dozen or so aprons with odd and non-sense phrases like ' _In dog beers I've only had one', 'Last time I cooked I hardly got anyone sick'_  and _'Born to shop, forced to cook'_  (he still doesn't know what 'discount apron warehouse' Skye got them from).

"Which apron? You bought me enough aprons to last several lifetimes."

" _The apron._ " He didn't think that her smirk could grow wider or become more evil, but she has a knack for proving him wrong.

He rolls his eyes, of course,  _the apron_. "Why  _that apron_?" Ward should be concerned that he know what she means by ' _the apron_ ' "Why not that 'Kiss the Cook' apron?"

"As much as I like to kiss the cook, that one isn't as fun." Skye gazes at him though her lashes at him. "Please, you said 'anything'? You're not going to deny your pregnant wife, are you?"

Ward sighs, he know that this is a fight that he has no chance of winning. "Okay, fine. You can put some on TV or something and I'll get the freaken' apron."

"Thanks babe." Skye rises to her toes, briefly kissing his lips to contrast against his sour expression

...

Ward sighs before reemerging back into the living space of their apartment, dawning an apron that reads, 'May I suggest the sausage?' with an arrow pointing down—well, down towards  _there_.

Skye looks up from the TV with the classic Skye grin. "Hey handsome," she purrs with a wink.

Ward closes his eyes as he takes a long exhale, "Just, no."

Skye tilts her head to the side. "Aw, are you embarrassed Robot?"

Ward looks back at her and protests, "It's just that this apron is stupid and it's just—just no."

"Well, I think you and your sausage look real fine in that apron," Skye says seductively.

He definitely feels heat rise to his cheeks now. "Skye, the extra doses hormones are getting to you. Go back to watching your show and I'll make you some brownies, okay?"

"Are you sure that you don't want me to help you or anything?"

He takes a few strides towards the couch and drops a kiss on her forehead. "No, you just relax, I've got it covered."

Skye tucks her legs up against her chest and brings her blanket further up her chest. "Sounds good to me."

Ward chuckles before walking back to the kitchen.

He flips on the light switch and squats down to the level of the lower cabinets. Then he opens the cabinet full of cook books and miscellaneous recipes that he has accumulated over the year. He reaches for a black binder that's labelled as 'Gramsy's Recipes' on the spine.

When she had passed away a couple of years ago, Grant didn't plan on taking any of her belongings, but two things were written in her will for him; her engagement ring (and the one that Skye now wears on her finger) and her recipes that she made herself over the years.

Ward then had taken the liberty to sort them into categories and then alphabetically and put them in sheet protectors in order to keep then organised in one binder.

He flips through several pages marked with colourful pages flags until finding the page titled 'Frosted Brownies with Strawberry sauce'.

Ward stands to his full height and places the open book onto the counter.

"Okay, ' _preheat the oven to three hundred, fifty degrees',_ " he mutters to himself as he leans over to the oven controls.

...

Ward scrapes the edges of the spatula on the brim of the bowl. Then he pulls a bowl of cleaned strawberries in front of him and begins to cut off the stems.

As he cuts and chops, he hears footsteps creaking behind him, but before he could look up, Skye wraps her arms around him with her body pressed against his back.

"Whatcha doin'?" She chimes as she rests her head on his shoulder.

"I'm making the frosting and the strawberry sauce for the brownies while they're in the oven."

Skye ducks past her husband and dips a finger into the chocolate sauce and licks it off her finger.

"When will they be done?"

"Uhh," Ward glances over at the oven and replies, "The brownies will be done in fifteen minutes. Can you hold out until then?"

"Okay," Skye smiles, her squeezing Ward's torso. "If you're not going to let me help, can I at least watch? I love watching you cook, well bake in this case."

"Of course, but don't steal anymore icing, I need it for the brownies."

Just as Ward finishes his sentence, Skye dunks another finger into the bowl of chocolaty goodness.

"No promises," she smirks before sticking her finger in her mouth.

"You are so predictable babe."

Skye laughs, "I guess I am."

Ward continues to chop up the strawberries as Skye hums some jazzy pop song that's unrecognizable to him. Then he places the cut strawberries into a small metal pot.

Glancing down at the cookbook, he skims for the next instruction.

Ward turns his head to look at his wife. "Skye, can you let go for a second? I need to get the sugar."

"No," she refuses, burying her face back into his shoulder blade.

Ward waddles back, Skye still clinging onto him tightly. He shuffles to the other side of the kitchen and grabs a ceramic jar of sugar and proceeds to waddle back to where the stove is. He measures out one third of a cup and dumps it on top.

"I'm going to get the vanilla okay?" he asks, interrupting Skye's humming turned light singing.

Skye nods before following his lead and waddling back and forth in the kitchen.

As much as Skye's hug (that is more of a standing cuddle at this point) is an inconvenience to his cooking, Ward feels at ease with her touch. It is almost like he's in an entirely different world; with the simmer starting to come from the pot, Skye sings lightly singing some romantic song in his ear (he swears he know it from somewhere, one of the shows she watches, Steven Universe maybe?) and the curve of her baby bump pressing against his back, it just feels too surreal to him, too much like a fantasy. He's almost excepting to wake up from this dream, but no, this isn't some virtual reality.

Even though domestic life was never quite his style, he wouldn't trade any of this for the world.

...

Ward places the plate in front of Skye, which holds two brownies on it, with the strawberry sauce drizzled upon the chocolate icing and a small fresh strawberry on top.

He briefly presses a kiss into her hair before grabbing his identical plate from the counter and placing it on front of his seat.

Next he goes to grab a set of wine glasses and a bottle of Coke-Cola that had been chilling in the fridge. Ward heads back to the table and places a glass next to each plate and fills them with the fizzy soda.

"Bon appétit mon chéri!" Ward speaks, the French accents rolling beautifully off of his tongue.

"Oui, oui!" Skye exclaims.

Ward snickers as he pulls out a chair for himself and takes a seat across from Skye. "Your French needs a little work Hon, you don't just say 'oui, oui' to everything."

Skye licks her lips as she cuts off a bite sized and puts the morsel of dessert inside her mouth.

"Mmmm," she reacts the second the brownie touches her tongue, "Grant this is delicious!"

"Well, you can never go wrong with one of Gramsy's recipes," Ward replies before taking a bite of his own brownie.

"So does this satisfy your craving?"

"Yes, yes it does," Skye exclaims with a mouth full of chocolate and strawberries.

Just as she goes for about fork full, she pauses and looks down at her stomach. "Grant come here, quick, I think that the baby is kicking."

Ward props his fork on the plate and hurries beside his wife.

"Here, the baby's still kicking." Skye takes Ward's hand in hers and places it on the side of her bump.

He waits for a moment, silent and still, yet he feels no difference.

"I don't feel—" he's cut off as the slight jolt of his hand. "Anything." When he feels it again he's almost too afraid to breathe. The movement is subtle, almost nothing, but he feels overwhelmed with emotion from just that tiny kick.

He looks up at Skye, who bears the same idiot grin on her face as he does.

"Wow," is all the words he can produce.

Skye chuckles, "I know, pretty amazing huh?"

"Yes it is." Ward leans down to press a kiss against Skye's lips. "I love you."

"I love you too Grant."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: My French teacher would be so proud that I didn't use a translator for that French sentence! I used a French to English dictionary instead! Actually, if you put 'Good appetite my sweetheart' into Google translate, it actually translate into 'Bon appétit mon cœur' or 'Good appetite my heart.'
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. I totally imagined Skye singing/humming 'Love Like You' from Steven Universe. I was listening to that on repeat while I write this. That is my ultimate domestic SkyeWard song.


End file.
